Trinkets
by ZBBZL
Summary: "And, she has never really imagined that Deeks would ever do this to her, leave her alone to deal with the mess of her life with him no longer being a part of it." KD. Two missing scenes and a tag to 3x10 'The Debt.'


_Title: Trinkets  
Timeline: Two missing scenes and a tag to 3x10 'The Debt.'  
_

_Happy Birthday to my awesome twin, Jess. :) Don't forget to wish her a happy birthday, and go and read her stories if you've been foolish enough not to so far!_

* * *

_She won't_. Kensi has promised herself she would never do this, ever again, so she won't. She will _not_ cry over another man, particularly when said man is her infuriating partner – _ex-partner_, she should say – and when said partner hasn't even had the decency to bid her a proper farewell.

She won't cry.

(Easier said than done.)

As soon as Callen and Sam give her a break from watching her as if she could break down or burst out anytime soon, Kensi excuses herself and leaves the bullpen quickly, unable to stand the tension radiating in the atmosphere. But just as the fresh breeze fills her lungs, the ever present scent of salt and sun wherever you are in Los Angeles, Kensi soon finds that she _can't_ handle this – the perpetual reminder of _Deeks_ in every breath she takes, as she inhales the sweet, dear scent of the ocean breeze.

She utterly _hates_ that everything, _anything_ can remind her of him. Her eyes wander around the bullpen and land on his desk and she wants to throw everything flying away; she aims to take a candy bar and she can hear him laugh in her head, mocking her about her sweet tooth, jokes that are only meant to be playful and _always_ (even though she will deny it until the day she dies) bring a smile on her lips.

Right now, though, there's no smile tugging at her lips, nor is there a gleam in her eyes – flare of rising annoyance or genuine fun, the combination her partner induces in her on a daily basis. _No_. As Kensi leans back against the wall to steady herself, her now weak legs threatening to buckle under the weight of the ache wrapping around her heart, she knows that her resolve is crumbling apart just like the walls she has spent years erecting around her started to upon meeting Marty Deeks.

If she stays here, she is going to succumb to the entrancing scent of the ocean, to the picture in her head of the deep blue of the Pacific that she sees every day in _his_ eyes. She is going to let it swallow her whole, and this Kensi can't accept – no, she _can't_ let this and _him_ break her, and reduce her to this trembling, weeping girl she has locked in a corner, promising herself she would never let her out again as she had thrown away the key years ago.

(God, how Deeks could so easily coax this girl out from hiding. Kensi is definitely not comfortable with the admission, but she knows she can't deny it as flashes blur her vision and mind, flashes of memories from a not so ancient past; Deeks holding out his hands to her, Deeks lying in a hospital bed…)

This girl no longer exists – and, God help her, Kensi will _not_ become a nervous wreck and cry over a man who neither cares nor respects her enough to –

She can't go there – can't, and _shouldn't_ want to. Deeks _was_ her partner, _their_ LAPD liaison officer, and by the end of the week or month, he could very possibly not even be a cop anymore at all. But, there was this slight chance, this small fire of hope still burning within her, this little voice grounding her, saying that Hetty would never let _one of their own_ go this easily.

As for now, Deeks _still_ is part of their team – no matter what Hetty had to do earlier, telling him that LAPD cut its ties with them. LAPD did, definitely not Hetty, and Kensi knows this: Hetty doesn't go down without putting up one hell of a fight. She will do anything in her power, and anything _supposedly_ damn impossible to help Deeks, and get him back. So, whatever thoughts racing through her mind right now _have_ to be ignored.

It damn _hurts_, though, to think that Deeks _isn't_ going through the waves of doubt and agony she's crushed under.

She thought there was something between them – this _thing_ they denied, laughed about and never discussed. But, Kensi thought it was there, underlying and ever present; it was there, just waiting for the best moment, the _right_ moment to happen. It was _inevitable_ that someday the fantasy would become reality; that the attraction, the desire and the longing would be oh so hard to deny, so hard to resist that… She knew it, she feared it just as much as she couldn't wait for it to happen.

It was doomed to make their life even more complicated than it already was – and this meant something. This was probably the worst idea ever conceived, almost as terrifying as Hetty partnering them up in the first place, but… This thing, the idea of them was also too entrancing, alluring and damn pretty to really care, and try hard to resist the temptation.

Today, though, after watching Deeks leave as if he couldn't get rid of her quickly enough, Kensi thinks that losing this possibility, well, it sucks and _dammit_, it hurts. And, she has never really imagined that Deeks would ever do _this_ to her, leave her alone to deal with the mess of her life with him no longer being a part of it – Kensi damn well knows she's kidding no one if she ever tries to deny that Deeks isn't the biggest. Neither has she ever thought that Deeks could somehow stop being _Deeks_ – her partner, her friend, the one who is _always_ there. He just barely left, and she already feels the ache of his absence dawning on her, _drowning_ her in. Because, he didn't _just_ leave, he wasn't just fired or suspended or whatever's going to happen to him. No. _Deeks left her_.

She, _Kensi_. Not Agent Blye, not just his partner, his colleague, the woman with whom he's been working for a year and a half now. Kensi. And, though she finds it silly and stupid and ridiculous, it hurts, maybe even _more_ than losing him as her partner; she hates herself for feeling like this, but she can't help it. Can't help the violent urge to sink to the floor and put her head between her knees and cry, letting the sobs wreck her body until oblivion, or the need to scream and kick the hell out of the punching bag until her knuckles are bleeding.

Marty Deeks left her.

Marty Deeks, the very same guy who calls her _Princess_ or _my sweet_, the one who buys her Twinkies and her favorite coffee every morning, the one who has wormed his way in past all her defenses, taking down every obstacle on his way to her very soul… He _abandoned_ her. He left without a second of hesitation, without turning to take a last look at her. And, God, he dared say he would call her.

_I will call you_. This exactly is something she's said over and over again, and she knows oh so well what it means. She knows the signification because it's possibly the only lie with which she has no problem; it's a vain, empty promise she's never been around to keep. And, apparently, she's made it _easy_ for Deeks to do the same to her. Kensi is no fool – she knows that promises are meant to be broken, dear God, if there's _one_ thing she knows, it's _this_. But, she thought everything had been said implicitly; that Deeks knew what he meant to her, and what _they_ meant. Kensi really thought – and was _obviously_ wrong, considering the turn of events – that Deeks _wanted_ her.

He has never hidden that he found her attractive; Kensi knows men think she's sexy, and Deeks _is_ a man, after all. But, with him, she has always felt like it wasn't _only_ about drooling over her body and assets; it was something in his eyes, in the way they roamed over her, desire clearly there, a look of approval and want, a fiery gleam that pierced her and shook her to the core, but, behind it, there was _Deeks_. And Deeks was (_is_, she forces herself to think) a nice guy who could be a bit of a jerk sometimes, a bit of a perv with his eyes fixed on her cleavage or skirt, but, deep down, there was also this _reverence_ in his gaze or tone, admiration of everything that she was in those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

She thought it had to mean something; that he wanted her, at least that way. All his stupid jokes and kinky innuendos had led her to think he did – and had only stoked the fire burning deep inside her, growing _stronger_ every day with every look, every touch.

As she starts trembling and goose bumps spread on her bare arms, though it's still quite warm, Kensi realizes this feels like being stabbed right in the heart – painful and slow and overwhelming. Knowing that Deeks doesn't even want her _like this_, that he can walk out the door like everything's _damn fine_, like all these months they've spent together, all these memories they've shared, the trust and the relationship they've built mean _nothing_… It _kills_ her. Watching him leave, ready to give up so easily on his career and his position with them at NCIS, leaving her behind like she's just another girl, one who isn't even hot enough or good enough for him to let her end her sentence…

It kills her, but Kensi is not _stupid_. If Deeks didn't let her say what she wanted so badly to say, if he looked so embarrassed, it's only because he was embarrassed _for_ her; that she was foolish enough to think he could want her, that something _serious_ could happen between them. That his teasing really meant something more than just two partners playing around, two adults flirting. Kensi will never _dare_ say she's material for building a life together, for the long run; she has to admit she is definitely not the kind of girl you want to spend your life with – Jack didn't, there's no reason why Deeks would. But, she thought that at least, Deeks still wanted to try. That, if NCIS and LAPD decided to separate them as partners, cut the ties between him and them, they'd still have each other; they would still remain _them_.

Clearly, she was wrong.

And, clearly, that's something Kensi has never suspected the strength of. She has never expected her heart to be shattered and torn by him, his leaving and his _rejection_ – maybe because she never thought he could leave, no matter what she would do or say. She thought that she was done with this, the heartache and the heartbreak. She thought she was done with _love_.

It had worked, until the day she had met Deeks.

And now, she is hugging her knees to her chest, her lungs burning at the scent of the ocean surrounding her, overwhelming her, _killing_ her. Her eyes sting and burn as she blinks her lashes furiously, trying desperately to hold back the moisture gathering at the corner, the tears threatening to fall. The lump in her throat is _impossible_ to swallow, but she does; she does for a couple minutes, biting the inside of her cheek, and closing her eyes firmly shut.

And then, God help her, all hell breaks loose.

Damn ocean breeze, damn shiver running down her spine, damn tears rolling down her cheeks. _And damn Deeks_. Damn Deeks and his eyes and smile and kindness and strength, damn Deeks for making her feel so good and safe, when he just left her as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

And be damned the soft cough she hears that makes her lift up her face, and meet gentle hazel eyes with her own teary ones. Kensi sniffles and quickly brushes her fingers to her cheeks and eyes, and tries to straighten up, in vain. She's on the floor, her back to the wall and her knees bent to her chest, and she knows that Nell has just caught her crying her heart out.

Still, Nell asks – probably _hoping_ to coax the truth out of her. "Kensi ? Is everything okay ?"

Kensi clears her throat. "Yeah, _I'm fine_. What do you guys have ?"

* * *

Kensi doesn't know who she wants to punch the hardest. Deeks _should_ make it to the first step of the podium with no trouble today, and yet, Sam and Callen, Lt. Bates and, God, _even_ Hetty come pretty close next.

The guys just seem so _distant_, as if it has not yet dawned on them that, _hello_, Deeks, their friend has been fired. _Moral support_, Callen had said, that's all they could give to him; like hell anyone could _really_ expect from Kensi to just stick to the part of the quiet, understanding, respecting-the-protocol agent. She was so disappointed by their attitude, and _disgusted_, too, honestly. Had it been one of the three of them, Kensi is sure that neither Callen nor Sam would be just sitting and waiting. They'd fight. That's what you did for your family, for those you care about.

And Deeks is part of their family, just as much as everyone else. He's done so much, proved so many times that he's earned the trust they now placed in him, and that he was a damn good cop, and man. Kensi simply can't accept that no one's fighting for him. Deeks would, for any of them. _For_ _her_, that she is sure of, one hundred and ten percent. And to see Callen and Sam just standing there, going on with the day and this case that seemed to matter more to them than her partner – as if _anything_ was more important than him at the moment… It just broke something in her.

Maybe it tugs at her heart to see that the men she considers brothers, her friends she works with, respects and admires, just don't give a damn about the _one_ person without whom she can't _function_. Just not hearing his name tagging along with hers as Callen would send the both of them to a crime scene or to talk to a witness leaves her feeling _empty_. She's so used to this, them, _together_, that when Callen reminds her that she has to go and see Angela Tully, Kensi can't help it as she lifts up her face, expecting to see Deeks sitting at the desk across from hers.

God, he _should_ be there. And she _has_ to get him back. With the team's help, or _not_, apparently.

Right now, though, he's not. His seat is empty, his desk cleared, any trace, any evidence that he's ever been there _gone_. And this, the lack of anything _proving_ that her partner, that _Deeks_, the one person who's changed so many things around here, the one guy who's shaken her world and their life for the best was there… The thought has her heart aching and pounding hard. The image is probably even scarier because the last time this desk went vacant, its owner never came back.

And Kensi knows just how utterly wrong it is for her to compare both. But, she can't help it; can't help but feel the same ache overwhelming her, the same fear filling her veins like poison, eating her alive. She's not sure how she can be _expected_ to go on without her _partner_, for God's sakes – whether it's for a day, for the entire duration of Internal Affairs' investigation, or _forever_. Sure, she could still get to see Deeks, have a beer and a burger with him at the end of the day, or be persuaded into going to the beach with him and watch him surf. _Sure_. But, Kensi knows that she _can't_ have anyone else out there, out in the field, by her side. She can't have anyone else have her back.

She can't have him go back to LAPD, and have _no one_ watching his.

She can't, and she doesn't want to. And yet, eventually, Kensi knows that Hetty, pressed by Director Vance, would have to _make_ her. Go on. Pick another partner. Start this all over again, building the trust, getting to know each other, and God… Starting to like them.

Like them, _love_ them, whatever.

So, in the end, if Deeks leaves... Well, then, he will shake her entire world once again. And, she wants no part in a world where Deeks _isn't_ there all the time. She wants no part in this world where Deeks exists, where he might be her friend, the guy she spends nights on her couch with, watching dumb TV and eating junk food – the guy she might end up cuddling with and falling asleep into his arms – but where he's not her _partner_.

(And, she realizes that although she wants to punch him and hit him until he's begging on his knees for leaving her _like this_, the thought of a world where he's _hers_, completely and solely hers, is more than alluring. Scary, yeah, but impossible to shrug off or ignore.)

Kensi sighs, and rubs the bridge of her nose before bracing her elbows on her desk, putting her head in her hands. She breathes in and out, slowly trying to regulate the pounding of her heart, and the pulse racing in her temple. She can't do this; can't break down in here, even though the bullpen is silent and empty of anyone else's presence. Callen and Sam left, Eric and Nell are probably in their office upstairs, and Hetty is nowhere to be seen – Kensi only hopes she's talking Bates out of this foolishness of taking Deeks away from them, or anyone else who has a say in that matter.

She's alone, and it would be so easy to just give in the wave of pain _again_ that for a minute, Kensi can't quite _remember_ why she shouldn't; why it is such a bad idea. She knows that if Deeks was there, he would tell her that it's okay – and not only would he say it, but Kensi knows he would be pretty skilled at coaxing her into letting go, and lean on him. Deeks isn't there, though, and it is the exact heart of the matter; Deeks isn't there, and his absence reduces her to someone she hates, and yet, can't help but become.

She has never been one to cry; not as a child when she would get hurt, bleeding knees or nightmares, or when her dad would leave for another one of those missions that sent him abroad, away from their family, away from his little baby girl. As an adult – and Kensi considers that she's been forced to become one at fifteen, when the little innocence left in her burst into flames at the news of her father's death – Kensi has tried oh so hard to never let those childish, ridiculous traitorous tears out; it's been hard, God, an utter hell to hold them back when Jack had left her. She had failed; not for long, though. After one week or so, when all hope had sailed away, when Kensi had known deep within her that Jack was gone for good, she had let them out – cried for hours, curled up in bed, his pillow and the faint scent of him tucked in her arms. And then, never again; not on the one anniversary of his disappearance, not when one Christmas without him became two or three. No.

She hadn't cried when Deeks was shot.

It had been hard – probably the hardest thing in a long, long time. But, she had succeeded at keeping the tears at bay. She had sat at his bedside, held onto his badge and watch, even contemplated fastening it around her own wrist. Kensi had watched over him, protected him from any other fateful intrusion, like any good partner would, and all the while without crying. God only knows how close she had been to, that day; _all day long_. And even at night, when she had returned to his room, pretending she was only there to keep him from pestering the nurses so they would come by, she had put on a brave face. Allowed a smile to briefly light up her face at one of his jokes or lopsided grin, or at the sight of seeing him drift into a peaceful, much needed sleep.

She had come back several times the following days, and during his recovery, spending a mere couple hours with him, or the entire week-end when Friday evening came.

Not a single tear. Teary smiles, yes; trembling hands tucking the sheets up until his chin, yes. Constricting heart at the realization that he was still there, even after putting his life and health at risk because of her, as he had saved her again… God, yes.

Today, right now, alone in the bullpen, no one watching her, no one there to judge her or offer a comforting word or hand on her shoulder… It all comes back to her. The ache, the agony, the fear. This need to yell or run or punch.

This fiery, urgent need to have him being the one to comfort her, the one she could punch or spar with until all the pent-up frustration and energy would dissolve, and turn into wrecking sobs. Sobs she has held back for so long Kensi is almost afraid of what it would do to her to let them out. Deep down, though, she's curious to see if it could bring her peace.

(Though she knows she will never come to terms with the idea of Deeks gone.)

Kensi resists the temptation, though, but only to try something even more stupid, something she knows will kill her. But, the image is driving her crazy; the emptiness of the cleared desk, the unoccupied chair are just mocking her, reflecting back to her a reality she can't accept. So, she gets up, surprised to see that her legs aren't weak, but rather driven by the determination to push her limits; she gets up, and walks across the bullpen until her hand comes in contact with _his_ desk, one fingertip dancing lightly over the wooden surface. And then, she's sitting carefully in his chair, hands gripping the arms quite forcefully, knuckles turning white.

She looks up, and sees the world from his point of view; sees the bullpen, her desk from his, and imagines him looking at her from there, grinning or smirking, or tapping his pen against his desk in that entirely maddening fashion of his. She tries to see it in her head, all those images she knows to have happened more than a lot, even though she chose to ignore it most of the time, never lifting her face to meet his eyes. She has felt his insistent gaze on her, oh God, more than once; after a tough day, after an encounter with a suspect or a witness that had left her shaken or sad or upset. The smirks, the jokes, the paper balls thrown her way, she could handle; the gentle care in those cerulean orbs ? Not so much.

She needs it now, though; needs to feel them on her, needs to feel his gaze pierce through her and warm her, because _right now_, she's ready to admit that it always makes her feel better to find him staring at her, the tenderness emanating from him so obvious, so overwhelming, so Deeks…

Kensi lays her palms flat on his desk, her eyes roaming over the few things left there. His desk has never been as cluttered as her (it's actually always been quite _oddly_ neat), never covered with tons of personal, ridiculous stuff like hers, but seeing it cleared is _unbearable_. Kensi reaches for the top drawer and opens it, finding it empty; but, as she goes for the second, her heart skips a beat.

There lies one single item, the last one relating to Deeks – and, oh God, how it does. It's completely _him_; thoughtful, adorable (though she would never say that aloud), caring and all things cute.

A candy box.

She knows this box; knows it exists, at least. Whenever she's cranky, pissed or upset, whenever she needs some treat, Deeks always magically pops one out of his drawer. Twinkies, Oreos, Ding-Dongs, Ho-Hos, anything she likes, anything she craves. It has reached the point when she's not bought candy herself for weeks, knowing that one blink of her lashes, one sigh louder than the other will give her what she wants. Deeks can deny her nothing, and more than once has Kensi simply held her palm open, waiting for him to deliver the welcoming piece of candy.

There's a tag on top with her name on it, his neat handwriting having traced the word long ago, the ink a bit faded, but the little star on top of the 'I' still visible. It's ridiculous, silly, corny, cheesy, and yet so Deeks, so terribly goofy, funny Deeks-like that it coaxes a single tear, a tiny bit of moisture at the corner of her eye. Kensi brushes it off, biting on her lip a bit hard, enough to sting, enough for her tongue darting on her bottom lip to not quite soothe the slight pain, and then, she opens it, revealing its content.

Were she being a bit emotional in front of a movie (one of those he loved teasing her about, and yet still sat through to make her happy), or just in a bad mood, Kensi would pick one, and swallow it in one bite. But right now, she simply cannot.

Deeks is not coming back to refill the box, and so if she takes one, devours them one after the other, the box will eventually end up empty, and the gaping void will just be a reflection of the void his absence is leaving; in her life, in their team, in her heart and this huge spot he occupies there. If she takes one, touches something in that box, it won't be his box for her anymore; it won't be the last reminder of him, the last evidence that he's been there, and that she's mattered to him, that he's cared for her.

It's just a candy box, and yet, for Kensi, it means everything.

It means that Deeks knows her, that he _gets_ her, probably in ways she never thought someone could, especially not the scruffy, shaggy and infuriating _ex_ LAPD liaison, the maddening, irritating Detective Marty Deeks.

God, _why_ ? What did she do, for everyone to keep leaving her ? What did she do to deserve that everyone does the same, worming their way into her heart, and then finding an out ? Has she made it that easy to walk in and out of her life, with not so much of an explanation, or a proper goodbye ?

Apparently, _yes_.

Kensi slams the drawer shut, and gets up so quickly that Deeks' chair falls backward. She doesn't care, and rushes out of OSP. She still needs to find and talk to Angela Tully, right ?

So, Deeks and his stupid chair can wait.

* * *

She's sitting at her desk when he comes in the following morning, but she doesn't lift up her face, even as she inhales the sweet aroma of her favorite coffee and doughnut. If he thinks he can buy her like this, then her newly returned partner is _very_ wrong.

"Hey, Kens," he softly calls out, dropping the cup and treat on top of her desk before walking to his, and Kensi hears the little thud of his bag hit his desk. "I've got something for you, if you're done pouting."

"I'm not _pouting_," she replies, immediately hating herself for doing so. She was supposed to ignore him today, that's what she had told herself before walking in the bullpen. Epic fail, obviously.

Silence lingers for a moment before Deeks breaks it, his voice low and barely above a whisper. "Okay," he simply lets out in a breath, as if musing on her words.

There's something in his tone that Kensi can't place, or give a name to; is it hurt, or confusion ? She has trouble holding her irritation back, though; if something gets to be pissed and homicidally angry, it's the one person who's been toyed with, the one whose feelings and emotions were used against her, and this person, well, it's _her_.

And yet, it utterly breaks her all over again to hear that in his voice, because she knows – _oh God_, how she is certain of this with _all_ that she's worth – that it broke him, _too_. That it's probably _still_ breaking him, that he's possibly spent hours regretting it, and trying to come up with other ways that he should have thought of earlier. Kensi can only imagine it, _sure_, but she knows that Deeks must have fought, that he must have tried to talk Hetty out of this op. _That's her partner_, that's the Deeks she loves more than she can comprehend, and more than she's comfortable with sometimes; and _her Deeks_ would have never approved of a plan that consisted in keeping her in the dark, and lying to her.

Deeks is probably one of the most decent people she's ever known, and she knows that he loathes lying just as much as she does. Sure, that's what the job expects from them, and they do what they must; but if there's one thing Kensi is absolutely certain of, it's that Deeks takes no benefit from it, and that it's not who he _is_. She's never heard him utter one lie that wasn't for the greater good, or in someone's best interests. He's not that man, that man who only cares about himself, and she knows it.

Doesn't keep yesterday and their ruse from hurting like hell.

But, seeing him struggling, hearing it in his tone, spotting the hurt in his eyes… It makes it damn impossible to be angry with him. The day before had been a nightmare, and last night had been worse, in a way; going home without having a proper conversation with Deeks, without giving him the chance to was harsh, and Kensi knew it.

God, she had _failed_ again. Tried to cry herself to sleep, and yet even _that_ hadn't worked. Sleep had never come, and after trying to treat herself with candy, bad reality-TV and cleaning (Deeks and his neatness be damned, dear Lord), 2 AM had found her sitting in her car in her pajamas, the key in the ignition, but the engine off. How long Kensi had stayed there, she can't tell; until goose bumps started spreading over her skin, at least, or until the sobs wrecking her body so much had left her blue from cold.

Part of her wanted to see him, wanted to let him apologize, and _be Deeks_; part of her wanted to let him comfort her, maybe even take her in his arms like she knew he would. Hell, that was the biggest part. But Kensi had fought it, refused to let it win; refused to let the sadness, the ache, the damn tears make her drive to his apartment, and have her knocking on his door in the middle of the night, welling eyes and heavy heart.

Ready to let him make it all okay.

Wanting it with all that she was.

Denying herself the need to.

She hears him walking to her, and he settles in front of her desk. _Waiting_. Slowly, Kensi tucks her hair behind her ears before lifting her face up to look at him.

God, those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

"That's for you," Deeks says softly, holding out a box to her. It looks just like his not so hidden one, and yet, Kensi knows it's not the same. How she knows it, well, she _doesn't_ know. She can feel it. "I, uh – I was surprised to find mine untouched, truth be told," he chuckles.

Kensi doesn't reach for it, so Deeks gently puts it on her desk next to her cup of coffee. "I know it's not much," he starts, mumbling, "but… Yeah, it's _nothing_, really. _Not enough_." He pauses, and averts his gaze, taking in their surroundings – there's no one around, not even Hetty. "God, Kens, I hope you know that – I never wanted to hurt you. I told them it was a stupid idea, that you could fool anyone, that –"

She raises a hand, shaking her head. "Don't. I know, Deeks. _I know_." The rational part of her knows everything he's about to tell her, but her heart ? She can't hear that right now. The wound is still too fresh, too deep.

"I _have_ to say it," he insists, his hands gripping the edge of her desk. He's pleading her, his lips pressed in a thin line, and his eyes locked with hers. She nods, and he continues. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't think of a better plan, or convince Hetty. And I'm sorry for the way we had to do this."

Deeks shifts, balancing his weight on one foot and then the other. He lifts a hand to his neck and scratches the skin, and his nervousness makes Kensi want to run – run away from him, from those apologies, and from this moment that will leave them even more scarred. She doesn't, though; she stays there, waiting for him to go on.

"I, mmh – I had _planned_ on calling you. Right after you would have met with Bates. I told Hetty I would," he adds quickly. "I told her I couldn't do that to you. But then, I got caught up with Quinn, and things got out of hand… Anyway, by the time I got into OSP to see Hetty, and she told me you were fine, I knew you weren't, and that there would be blood. It was too late for me to call you, and then, you climbed into the backseat of my car…"

"Wow. That's a quick summary of yesterday," Kensi snaps, though it comes out way less sharp than she intended. The sorrow, the hurt are obvious in her tone, and they both know she hates herself for letting it show. She reaches for her coffee, busying her hands, pretending her fingers aren't shaking.

"I bought that for you the other day, naively and quite stupidly hoping it would help." He pauses, not knowing if he should say what's on his mind, or if he'd rather stop right there. He goes on, though; now that he's come so far, he can't really backpedal. "I thought you would have devoured all of mine. And, uh… I didn't want you to starve. I didn't want you to devour it all, and then have nothing left…"

Kensi puts her cup down. How can he know ? How is it, that they feel the same, that they think the same ? "And you thought that candy would make it all better." There's no accusation in her tone; it's a fact, simple enunciation of the truth.

Deeks walks around her desk until he's standing next to her, leaning against the wood, looking down at her. She cranes her neck up, hating how he's hovering over her, and yet, unable to get up and face him with her full height. Maybe she needs him to be taller, even for just a moment; maybe she needs him to be big and tall and strong, because right now, she's none of the above. She feels so small, so tiny, so weak; _fragile_, even. She's not even sure she could get up, and stand on her own two feet.

Kensi thinks, and she's too tired to block the thought, that maybe, she would let him hold her right now, or catch her as she falls. Even if it's his own damn fault if she's in this state in the first place.

_Hetty's_ fault, really.

"It was hard for me, too," he says, and Kensi knows he means it; feels it, once again. And it warms her just as much as it floods her veins with ice. "I had to drive, which was so _foreign_ to me, considering you always have to get behind the wheel," he laughs quietly, before he clenches his fingers around the arm of her chair, turning it until she faces him fully. "It was a living hell. All day without you…I wasn't _ready_ for that. I guess I _never_ will," he adds in a whisper, but the words echo in her ears loud and clear. "I knew it was just a setup, that I was coming back, and yet… _I missed you_," he finally blurts out. "I missed you, Kens. I missed the smell of molten Twinkies between the car seats, techno blasting in my ears, I missed all things _Kensi_."

His eyes pierce through her, and her voice comes out muffled by threatening tears when she speaks, ever softly. "Don't say that…"

"Why not ?" he asks, shifting until he's standing closer, letting the hand on the arm of the chair lift until his fingers flutter on her bare skin. "I missed you," he repeats, gazing down at her with that look in his eyes she can't decipher. "And… I kept thinking that – God, I was such a _girl_ yesterday. I just wanted something to hold onto, something to remind me of you. And I had nothing. So, I've been thinking, and…"

He reaches for her drawer, and when she doesn't stop him, opens it, looking down until he finds what he was looking for. He comes up with a dozen jelly bracelets, and Kensi briefly wonders how he even knows they're there – is there a thing the man doesn't know ? "I would love to have one, if that's okay," Deeks says. "Just so next time I get fired, I have something to help me through."

Kensi closes her eyes and shakes her head, breathing in and out sharply. She bites on her lip, and then, she feels knuckles tenderly ghost over her cheekbone. Her eyes open, and God, she knows tiny tears follow, just at the corner. Deeks brushes them away with a fingertip, and then pushes a stray curl behind her ear. "I'm sorry," he says simply.

"The blue one," Kensi replies, tilting her head, her own fingers rising to the corner of her eyes. "Take the damn blue one and let it go, Deeks."

Deeks smiles and opens his mouth, ready to make a comment about her choice. It's on the tip of his tongue, really; but, he bites it back. _Of course_ she chose the blue one. He slides it on his wrist, and Kensi lets out this tiny, almost imperceptible laugh that he has to strain his ear to hear.

"You really are a girl," Kensi teases. "You look ridiculous with that thing on."

"Yeah, maybe. Definitely," Deeks admits. "But, that's my Kensi Blye trophy. Wouldn't trade it for anything else, fancier or more manly. Nope."

"Deeks…"

He leans in, and puts both hands on the arms of her chair, encircling her with his arms. He's eye level with her now, and he can see the red around her dark orbs, clear teller that she's been crying an awful lot. _Because of him_. "I'm sorry," he lets out, his breath mingling with hers, fanning over her face. "I'm sorry I left you _like this_. And that I didn't let you say what you wanted to say."

Kensi's eyes snap wide open, and she tries to push her chair backward with her feet, but Deeks only tightens his hold on the arms, keeping her in place. "Don't close down on me now, Kens. Because… I do have _more_ to say."

He lets the words linger in the air, lets their meaning dawn on her. Her lips are trembling, and her eyes are fixed on his, the struggle just there in the space between them, along with the ache, the anger, and something more.

Something that makes him lean in even closer, until his lips are hovering over hers.

"What ?" Kensi asks, her lashes blinking against her cheeks.

Deeks smiles against her lips as he brushes them with his, just merely dropping a little, soft peck. "_This_," he whispers before pressing his lips more eagerly.

He's tugging at the fabric of her shirt, his fingers gripping by her hips as he tries to lift her off of her chair, and when he does and she's standing, Deeks immediately wraps his arms around her, bringing her flush against his body. Kensi doesn't resist; she denies him nothing as the gentle, yet insistent pressure of his lips parts hers, and she doesn't even try to repress the shiver that runs through her spine, or the tiny moan that his hungry, messy kisses elicit from her. She can only loop an arm around his neck and her free hand flies to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric, just above his heart.

She snaps back into focus when she feels his warm hands slip underneath her shirt, finding the smooth skin of her back and stomach. He's holding onto her more firmly, pressing her body to his, and Kensi finally kisses him back, the heat between them morphing into desperate want.

And then, as soon as it's started (though it feels like hours later), it ends, and they pull back, arms still wrapped around each other. Kensi bites on her lip, pink tinting her cheeks when she speaks, her voice altered by her fast breathing. "You were right… There _is_ a thing."

"So, _we_ have a thing ?" Deeks presses, leaning in again to touch her lips with his.

"Wouldn't give you one of my jelly bracelets if we didn't, you idiot."

* * *

_the end_


End file.
